


Day One - "Loss"

by Element_of_Fabulosity



Series: Akatsuki no Yona Angst Week 2k19 [1]
Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Gen, akatsuki no yona angst week 2k19, also angst, anyangst2k19, character tags are for the actual dragon gods, not the dragon warriors, worldbuilding fuck yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 22:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19913695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Element_of_Fabulosity/pseuds/Element_of_Fabulosity
Summary: Hiryuu's would-be execution, and reflections on the past.





	Day One - "Loss"

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up 30 years late with coffee* So...I didn't actually know about this event until I couldn't sleep at two in the morning on monday and decided to check the AnY fics and...  
> Yeah. Anyway, this is an idea I've had kicking around that I wanted to put into a multichap, but whatever. Enjoy.

The pebbles strewn across the courtyard dig into their knees. January air chills their exposed neck. Their mass of hair, that drew so many stares, pools and tangles in front of them, conveniently hiding their curled lips and their unwanted tears.  _ They _ will not receive the satisfaction of seeing them so broken. It is fine, Hiryuu thinks, if they indulge in pettiness in the final hours of their life.

They can hear the ringleader gloating. They listen with one ear-- what can the bastard say that they do not know? Oh, they had such _grand_ ideas and they worked so hard to bring the clan leaders together, and then they made themself disposable. They hid nothing. They trusted their followers implicitly, never imagining that ulterior motives might exist. They planned for everything...except for the possibility that their second-in-command was lying.

This hurts the most. The gods do not care for the prayers of mankind. To the lot of humans, they would seem cruel and selfish, but they do not lie. To speak something that is not truth...that is incomprehensible, unimaginable as water that is dry.

Humans, Hiryuu now realizes, think differently. Different cultures means different values; different species of course have almost nothing in common. Distantly, they hear the ring of metal. A sword sliding against a scabbard. They close their eyes, and search in vain for the ghost of the ethereal web that linked their mind and soul to their siblings’. Not even the ghost of it exists now.

They are calm. It’s unsurprising; did they not accept their death years ago?

Even dragons have their ends, despite what those human priests seem to think. Hiryuu made their decision in a single instant, without room for a shade of regret. If their death --as it exists to humans, a permanent end-- was what it took to save the ones most precious to them, they would sacrifice themself without a second thought, again and again. Becoming a human was a necessary side effect, and a moot point besides: their weak, human heart would give out soon after. Humans are such fragile creatures.

Hiryuu remembers lying in a crater of their own making and continuing to draw breath, silence laying on them with the weight of a corpse. They remember the feeling of  _ void _ . Drowning in nothingness. They remember their eyes fluttering open, and the world appearing wrong. It was no nightmare; not even in their cruelest moments could they conceive something as alien as this: the warmth of their siblings’ presence, like a well-loved quilt,  _ gone _ .

A thought trickles down Hiryuu’s memory lane. Should not the sword have fallen by now? How long do-

The air has changed.

The world  _ shatters-- _ there is no other word for it. Between one heartbeat and the next the solemn courtyard is replaced by a maelstrom. Hiryuu’s weak human eyes see only the blur of a hurricane’s eyewall. The earth and the sky alike tremble. They dare not breathe. Four roars ring out, unobscured by human shrieks and splitting stone and howling wind. Ryokuryuu. Seiryuu. Hakuryuu. Ouryuu. Hiryuu’s heart swells with each voice. Their head lifts. Their cheeks hurt from smiling so broadly.

“You came back,” Hiryuu says, as the maelstrom dissipates. There are only ruins now. Hiryuu watches their siblings land, coiling around crumbled walls and demolished towers. Hiryuu’s smile falls as they make a note to look for survivors later, and to bury the dead. “I know. You can’t stay long.” Another cruel reality. The sheer power all dragons hold frays the fabric of this world. That storm was only a fraction, and if they remain...

Four sets of slit-pupiled eyes land on Hiryuu. If they have a reply, Hiryuu does not know what it is. As if their bond was not enough, Hiryuu is deaf to the voices of the gods. Like most humans are. But...they know their siblings. They can read their pain on their faces, in the flicking of their ears and the curl of their necks. They recognize pleading in dragons’ eyes. This much is clear: Hiryuu’s siblings want them to go home.

Home? It’s already lost to me, is what Hiryuu cannot bring themself to say. Fresh tears slip down their cheeks, as if mocking them: see, they’re human now, here’s proof. Dragons do not have tear ducts. They roar when they are sorrowful.

“I can’t,” Hiryuu chokes out. Just like the world of humans cannot contain dragons, the dragons’ world was never meant for humans. Overnight, harmless and curious creatures became dangerous beasts. Every day was spent looking upward at a sky Hiryuu could no longer fly through. Falling was suddenly a danger. Harsh winds were now painful. They could only be carried around in someone’s claws while they flew slowly and close to the ground. Hiryuu hated every second. Worse was how their siblings dutifully rotated through guarding them. As if Hiryuu couldn’t see Seiryuu’s annoyance when they thought they weren’t looking. As if Ryokuryuu could hide their restlessness from anyone.

Hiryuu wonders if their siblings ever saw them as a burden. They asked only once, and the grief written in Ouryuu’s face could have meant anything.

“I have four...maybe five decades left, if I die of old age,” Hiryuu says. They wonder if they are interrupting someone. “I know it’s only a little while, but I want to spend it here. I want to help humanity. You all don’t get it...that’s fine. Absurd as it sounds, helping these humans makes me happy.” They swallow. Their head is light. They miss now, more than ever, being able to share their thoughts and feelings directly. They have no way to know if they’re getting the point across now. They meet each set of eyes in turn. Ouryuu. Seiryuu. Hakuryuu. Ryokuryuu.

Right now, Hiryuu’s resolve is diamond. “I will not spend the last decades of my life useless, helpless, and looking up at a sky I can’t touch.”

Their siblings' whiskers swirl and tails shift as they converse. A pang of  _ wanting _ hits Hiryuu all at once-- they want to know what their stupid, beloved siblings are saying. They want to hear their voices again. They want to feel their souls resonating in time with their own.

They want their home back.

Hakuryuu is the first to kick off the ground. They do not look back. Seiryuu practically floats, spiraling into the air. Ouryuu takes their time, inky eyes blinking away from Hiryuu. Ryokuryuu dips off the crumbled tower before rocketing upwards. Four colorful ribbons vanish into the indigo sky.

Hiryuu stands, wavering on shaking legs, and wonders how their trampled and torn heart can still possibly be beating.


End file.
